Q&A with singer-songwriter Amy Correia

Monday

May 21, 2012 at 12:01 AMMay 21, 2012 at 9:16 PM

A native of Lakeville, Mass., Amy Correia’s third album, “You Go Your Way” has been met with universal critical acclaim, and won the Folk/Singer-Songwriter album prize from this year’s Independent Music Awards. Here, she answers our questions about her hometown, her influences and her approach to songwriting.

Peter Chianca

A native of Lakeville, Mass., Amy Correia’s third album, “You Go Your Way” has been met with universal critical acclaim, and won the Folk/Singer-Songwriter album prize from this year’s Independent Music Awards. Here, she answers our questions about her hometown, her influences and her approach to songwriting.

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Q. Your second album, “Lakeville,” (2004) was named after your Massachusetts hometown — how did your upbringing there influence your approach to songwriting? If you had to classify your lyrical sensibilities, are they small-town, urban or somewhere in between?

A. “Lakeville” is the solid ground of my childhood and also an idealized place to me. As an album title, it’s the inner, spiritual space and creative wellspring that I keep finding my way home to.

In terms of my upbringing there and its relationship to my songwriting, I was always encouraged to be true to myself and be a creative person but I didn’t start writing songs until I was in my 20s. Because my parents hadn’t gone to college, I think it was foremost in their mind to give me and my brothers as much education as we could stand. In my case I was really into it.

I always did well in school and loved reading and literature since I was a kid. One of my favorite toys was a little blue toy typewriter with real ink rolls. I loved that thing! I also had a little Panasonic record player and loved listening to records and dancing to the radio, memorizing song lyrics and melodies. My mom introduced me to playing piano (and got me lessons for five years) but I wasn’t that committed to it and resisted the formal aspects and discipline of it (unfortunately). Consequently I am still learning how to play music and rely mostly on my ear.

If I had to classify my lyrical sensibilities I don’t think I could pin it on a place, whether urban or rural. Images from songs have come from living in various locales (Lakeville, New York, Los Angeles) but the sensibilities and “voice” come from an inner space. How one finds a voice seems to me an ongoing process.

Q. There are so many voices on your latest album; how much is that varied perspective part of a conscious decision on your part when you’re writing new songs? Do you have a “plan” when coming up with songs for a new album, or is it more the case of following your muse wherever it happens to go?

A. I don’t have a plan. I wish I had a plan, but I’m not that methodical in terms of the songs themselves. When I’m writing, a key image or phrase usually occurs to me, which comes out of a melody. One of the next choices is about the point of view ... it usually presents itself spontaneously and seems part of the song’s essential character.

An exception to this is the song “Took Him Away” (from “You Go Your Way”). Initially it started as the voice of a wife whose husband was away and fighting a war, but I just couldn’t get inside of it. I’m not married and never have been, but later I had some experiences that helped me find the narrator. It was a boy. Somehow from a child’s point of view I could bring more of myself to it and it felt more interesting to me.

A couple of songs on my new album were in the second person plural “you” which was a surprising first for me. That happened spontaneously on “City Girl”: The first line came out “Have you ever been happy?” and there was no way to make it otherwise. Then it happened in another song “Old Habits”: “You think it’s the end you conquered your sin but here it comes again.”

Other songs naturally start from “I” like in “Powder Blue Trans Am”: “I can’t get a man.” I did try it as “She can’t get a man” because I didn’t want to have to own that idea, but it didn’t work at all. I wanted to express something primal about sexual frustration and getting older and it was “fun” to explore that as the “I.”

Of course there are aspects to that song that are me. Overall the different songs are parts of myself enlarged and examined ... and the writing of them is a satisfying way to identify and integrate those parts. In some ways, that is why I think albums for many of us still make sense! It’s a collection, not a single song that gives a complete picture.

Q. I hear a lot of influences in your work, from Joni Mitchell to Janis Joplin to Bonnie Raitt — I even read one interview where you cited the “Mary Poppins” soundtrack as an influence. You’ve also toured with a lot of great artists, like Chrissie Hynde, John Hiatt, Richard Thompson, Marc Cohn and Aimee Mann. To what extent does the work of other artists you admire play into the way you develop your own music, and how do you channel their influence into something that’s uniquely yours?

A. It really is a mysterious process how someone else’s music influences my own. Of course it does and always has from the American songbook of my childhood to the radio of the 1970s to friends who play music and everything in between.

In the cases of the wonderful musicians I’ve had a chance to be around: I think it’s their music as well as the presence and personalities of these people that inspire. I love Chrissie Hynde’s toughness and fearlessness. She seems to have a razor-like focus and work ethic and at the same time she’s unassuming and real. Richard Thompson is the ultimate craftsman and guitar master who quietly blows everyone away. Marc Cohn’s voice is so warm and moving; he’s a showman and a great storyteller. John Hiatt is a bigger-than-life powerhouse. Bonnie Raitt seems to have shamanic powers to me.

I realize this all sounds idealized, and I guess that’s exactly the point: just being in the orbit of any of these masters rubs off on anyone who is open to it. It’s a gift to be around people who have spent their lives perfecting a craft and being these forces of nature in the world. I don’t consciously try to emulate any of them in terms of their specific work, but I watch and learn from an overall authenticity and style that each one brings.

There are times I’ll sing something and I’ll think, “That reminds me a bit of Richard Thompson” or “That sounded like Peter Wolf.” And a long while ago I remember finishing a song and realized if it hadn’t been for Fiona Apple, I’m not sure the song could have been written. It’s weird: I’ll write a line and recognize a word or melody that’s connected to something like “Mary Poppins,” but it’s too mysterious to get a grasp on how it happens or why.

Contact Peter Chianca at pchianca@wickedlocal.com.

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